Chapter 5 - THE CONFRONTATION IN BROOKLYN
Three days later, the rain was coming down hard over the brownstones of Park Slope, Brooklyn.
Inside a modest two-bedroom apartment funded by Daniel’s emergency savings, Chloe Vance sat on a rocking chair holding her newborn daughter, Lilly. The room was cluttered with unboxed baby supplies, formula tins, and half-folded laundry.
The front door opened, and Daniel walked in carrying a cardboard box filled with rolled-up architectural blueprints. He looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot, wearing a damp jacket that smelled of rainwater and cheap coffee.
“Did the bank release the emergency business loan?” Chloe asked softly, looking up with anxious eyes.
Daniel set the box down heavily on the kitchen counter, burying his face in his hands. “No. They said without Natalie’s signature as guarantor, my firm is classified as a high-risk liability. My two junior architects resigned this morning because I couldn't cover their payroll.”
Chloe lowered her head, tears welling in her eyes. “Daniel... what are we going to do? The landlord said the lease on this apartment expires at the end of the month. He said the rent hasn't been paid since last Tuesday.”
“I’m handling it, Chloe!” Daniel snapped, his stress boiling over. “Just give me a minute to think!”
Lilly started crying from the sudden noise. Chloe pulled the baby close, her voice trembling. “Don't yell at me, Daniel! I didn't tell you to lie to your wife for a year! You promised me she’d agree to a quiet settlement!”
Before Daniel could answer, the apartment intercom buzzed sharply.
Daniel walked over to the speaker, his heart pounding in his chest. “Who is it?”
“It’s Dr. Harper,” Natalie’s voice came through the small speaker, clear and calm despite the rain. “I have the final property division schedules for your signature.”
Daniel looked at Chloe, whose face went completely pale.
“Don't let her up here,” Chloe whispered, clutching the baby.
“She’s bringing the legal papers, Chloe,” Daniel said grimly, hitting the door release button. “If I don't sign them, she’ll take the bankruptcy petition directly to the state licensing board.”
Two minutes later, Natalie stepped into the small Brooklyn apartment. She wore a tailored black trench coat over a gray dress, holding a sleek leather folder under her arm. She didn't look angry or vengeful; she looked like an auditor inspecting an account that was five minutes away from being closed.
Her eyes swept over the cluttered apartment, lingering for a fraction of a second on Chloe holding the crying newborn in the rocking chair.
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“Dr. Harper,” Chloe began, her voice shaking as she stood up. “I... I want you to know... I never wanted to ruin your marriage—”
“Save it, Miss Vance,” Natalie said smoothly, unzipping her folder on the dining table. “I’m not here to discuss your morals. I’m here to close a transaction.”
